


Coming Home

by angelheadedhipster



Category: You Should See Me In a Crown - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Future Fic, Girls Kissing, High School Reunion, nostalgia in a high school gym
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:34:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28146912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelheadedhipster/pseuds/angelheadedhipster
Summary: I’m still taller than all of the girls and most of the boys, which makes it easy to look out over everyone’s heads. Fewer and fewer people are in the corners of the entryway now, more of them slipping through the doors toward the auditorium.“She’ll be here, Liz,” says Jordan’s voice, low.
Relationships: Amanda "Mack" McCarthy/Liz Lighty
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mammothluv](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mammothluv/gifts).



> My darling! I originally got matched with you on "Teenage Bounty Hunters," which is great, but when I saw one of your other requests was this book, I realized I had purchased it on my kindle and never read it. So I read it, and it was lovely! Here's a fic about it, but also thank you for spurring me to read this charming novel. Happy yuletide!
> 
> Thanks to Aliza, Meredith, [hi_irashay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hi_irashay/pseuds/hi_irashay) and [FlameBlownWhiter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlameBlownWhiter/pseuds/FlameBlownWhiter) for betaing so quickly, and, of course, to Taylor Swift.

You’d think some things would have changed in five years, but not in Campbell, Indiana. 

It hasn’t actually been five years since I’ve been here. It’s funny - for most of the time I was in high school, I couldn’t wait to leave, and I thought I’d never look back. 

But senior year changed how I felt about Campbell, and how I felt about my time here. I was still glad to get away, but I’ve been coming back.

I like to come back for homecoming each year. Because Campbell has never met a tradition it couldn’t beat into the ground, of course it has an alumni homecoming court. And, no surprise, it was pretty well-attended. A lot of people stay in Campbell after graduation, and if you’re still in town, hey, might as well swing by the high school and relive the glory days. Some of them come for other events, too - winter formal, pep rallies, and of course, prom. 

After I graduated, I was a little further away, and between Robbie and my grandparents, I was happy to visit Campbell but I wasn’t going to plan my life around it. So just homecoming, for me. I would take the whole weekend - visit Dr L, spend some time with Robbie and Granny and Grandad, and then come to the homecoming dance. 

I think on some level I want to show people that it could be done; that they could be different, in Campbell, and still be prom queen. I’m not suggesting any one should do what I did - honestly, I wouldn’t wish my last year, the highs and lows, being outed and Rachel Collins and all of it - on anyone. But I wanted people to see that a black, queer, nerdy girl could be prom queen, even in a place like this. I wanted to show the next few years of kids what Campbell could be. 

So even though it was our five year reunion, I’d been here less than a year ago. 

But it had been five years for Jordan.

“Wow,” he says as we walk onto the Commons. “Was this thing always so enormous?”

“I thought things were supposed to look smaller as we get older,” I say wryly.

“I thought so, too,” Jordan says. “But this thing is like, a football field made of concrete. We hung out here every day?”

“Yup,” I say. “We covered it in posters once, too.”

Jordan walks forward but his head cranes upward and then sideways in a full 360. His body follows, so he’s walking sideways and then backwards.

“God,” he says, looking back at me. “That last year was crazy, wasn’t it?”

I laugh. Unlike me, when Jordan graduated from Campbell, he left. He played football through college and I went to as many of his games as I could fit between my own concerts (which Jordan came to, when he could), homework, and excruciatingly difficult tests. By his junior year, Jordan was using his own fame and his dad’s connections to start a nonprofit that provided first class athletic equipment and instruction to schools with few resources. Now that he’s graduated and working full time for the foundation, it takes even more of his time. He’s almost never in Campbell except to see his family, and I know for a fact he hasn’t been back to the school since our graduation ceremony. 

Jordan’s eyes still look too big for his head as we hit the double doors to enter the school itself. It’s funny to watch him be so overwhelmed, especially when it always felt like he owned the place when we were in school. It’s a strange kind of reversal - now I’m the one who’s used to this place, and Jordan’s the outsider.

Used to it or not, I’m not fully prepared for the sheer number of balloons that bounce towards our faces, or just how many colors they come in. Jordan’s jock reflexes kick in and he’s batting them away and spiking them at the floor, while I just stand up as tall as I can so they float down around me. As the balloons clear, we can see no fewer than five banners strung up on the walls, in the classic Campbell eye-popping red and white.

“WELCOME BACK ALUMNI”

“CAMPBELL FOREVER”

“WE MISSED YOU”

And two, one on each side of the entrance hall, that say “FIVE YEAR REUNION.”

That’s why we’re here - it’s been exactly five years since I was prom queen, since everything happened with the campaign and Mack and my friends and my family. Since we graduated and scattered into our own lives. And now we’re back - well, some of us - to eat snacks prepared by the PTA and size up how much we’ve all changed. 

“Lighty! Jennings! Yo!” says a voice to my left, and then we’re being barreled into by Jaxon Price. 

Jaxon Price looks mostly like he did in high school - a little taller, maybe a little less lean. He’s grinning and has a new sparkly earring in his left ear, and he’s punching Jordan in the arm.

“I never thought I’d see you around Campbell again, dude,” he says. “You’re famous now!” 

Jordan smiles, and at first it looks a little uncomfortable, but he relaxes as Jaxon peppers him with questions about the foundation and jabbers on about the “totally rocking” job he has at his dad’s bank now. 

I’m listening with half an ear while still looking around the room. It does seem a little smaller, I think, or maybe I’m imagining it. I’m half looking at the decorations and half at the people streaming in, searching out familiar faces and being somewhat surprised at how much people still look like themselves.

Within moments, Jordan and I are surrounded. There’s Gabi and Britt (though Stone isn’t attending; she was at an ashram in Tibet, last I heard), Derek, Esme, some of Jordan’s friends from the football team, other faces at once familiar and still jolting to see after all this time. Everyone’s talking loudly, all at once, as we move slowly but inexorably towards the auditorium doors. 

I’m still taller than all of the girls and most of the boys, which makes it easy to look out over everyone’s heads. Fewer and fewer people are in the corners of the entryway now, more of them slipping through the doors toward the auditorium. 

“She’ll be here, Liz,” says Jordan’s voice, low. I hadn’t realized he was so close to me.

“Who?” Jaxon asks. 

No one responds to him directly, but I see Gabi and Jordan give each other a look. 

“No one,” I say as we enter the auditorium and I skitter off to the side to get a seat. 

+++

It’s about eight minutes into Principal Wilson’s very boring speech about tradition and the fine things we learned at Campbell High - as if - when the doors in the back of the auditorium burst open. The auditorium is big, dark and dusty, as it always was, and the rays of light from the entryway area makes everyone crane their necks to see who opened the door.

She always did arrive to things late.

Mack is trying to duck out of the light and unobtrusively find a seat on the side of the auditorium, though it’s too late for her to be inconspicuous. And as usual, she doesn’t really look like ‘inconspicuous’ is the vibe she’s going for. Her hair is bright red, cut short and framing her face with some pretty severe bangs. She’s wearing bright pink pants that look like leather or something, and a vest over a cropped t-shirt with something written on it. It’s hard to make out her whole look, but her dangling earrings move as she does and she’s got shoes with rainbows on them.

Just as I realize I’m full on staring at her, Mack sits down in the seat she’s claimed and looks over towards our group of friends. 

Our eyes meet, just for a moment, but it feels like I’ve been struck by lightning

I remember, suddenly, that moment in band when she first walked in. When I first saw her. She was so cute, and had those gorgeous eyes. 

Her eyes are still striking, even across the seats of a darkened auditorium. Years later, I still can’t look away.

I don’t hear a word of the speeches. Not that I was really expecting to pay attention, but they go in one ear and out the other. No one is really listening, it seems - there are whispers and rustles all over the auditorium. No one is here to listen to our old teachers, as complimentary as they are being. We’re here for the food and the ‘dance,’ and to see what happened to the people we used to see every day in the five years since we’ve laid eyes on them. 

It’s been less time than that for me and Mack. The last I’d seen her was spring break of our freshman year, and it wasn’t a particularly happy memory. We’d stayed together through the end of high school, and had a summer that should have been glorious but was also taken up with anxiety about the future, about school and about what came next. Long distance is tough on everyone, but, looking back, I think there was just too much going on for me and Mack. She was the first queer girl I ever met, and then the first girl I ever kissed, and then she was my first girlfriend. We were both trying to learn about ourselves and about being in a relationship at the same time, and then it all blew up. We were famous, we were fighting all of Campbell and we were local lesbian icons. We were just figuring ourselves out in front of the whole world, and it ended up being too much for us. 

But sitting there in that auditorium, I remember the night we first kissed, the two of us in our own streetlight spotlight, our teeth clashing together in our clumsiness. 

+++

The food is better than I expected, and it’s pretty fun to dance with people I haven’t thought about in years. Everyone wants to know about Jordan’s nonprofit, and all the girls want to know if he’s still with Esme (technically no is the answer, but no other girl has a chance, really). People keep coming up to me, too, which means I don’t get to go talk to Mack all through dinner and all through the gap between dinner and dessert when people are supposed to dance. This event is structured kind of like a wedding, I realize. 

“Internal medicine, yeah,” I’m telling Quinn Bukowski, who’s smile has gotten even brighter somehow during college. “I’m planning on hematology, but keeping my options open for a bit, while I can.”

“Wow,” a voice breathes behind me. “Hematology, huh?”

I turn around, trying to maintain my composure even though I know whose voice that is. 

Mack is standing next to our table - we’re all standing, everyone with their hand on the back of a chair or around a drink - and smiling up at me. Her eyes are bright even amidst all the other faces, and I suddenly desperately want to know every thing she’s thought about or done since we last talked. 

“Uh, yeah,” I say, sounding as awkward and bowled over as I feel. “Just like… I mean, it’s what I always wanted to do.” 

“I know,” says Mack. “I’m just… it’s cool you’re doing that.”

I hear a bit of a giggle next to me, and Quinn says, “I’m gonna go talk to someone else.” She’s walked off before I even manage to turn around and say goodbye to her. 

“Yeah, it’s… yeah, thank you,” I say. My words are coming out sluggish and slow, but it feels like my brain is going a million miles an hour. It’s almost like there are two conversations happening now - one with words, between me and Mack, basic and normal, and one between my racing heartbeat and the swooping feeling in my stomach. I’m vaguely aware of the people around us, the bustle of the gym, but it feels far away. 

Mack bites her lip. I can’t tell if she was wearing lipstick or if her lips are just that pink, and I really want to know. I want to know if it comes off on her tongue when she licks her lips.

I”m so busy thinking about that question that I barely register that Mack’s talking to me.

“How- how have you been?”

“Oh!” I say. I pull my focus to her eyes now, but it doesn’t really help. Those eyes. “I’m good. Med school is tough but, y’know.”

Mack grins. “I’m sure you’re killing it.”

I duck my head a bit and don’t respond. My grades are pretty good, and I am working really hard. 

“How about you? Are you still living in Evansville?” I ask.

“Indianapolis!” she says, brightly. “Yeah, I’m in a band!”

“Oh wow!” I say. I’m not surprised - Mack was always so good at what she did. “I bet you guys are great.”

“Yeah,” she says, and pulls her mouth into a bit of a lopsided grin. “I mean, I think we’re pretty good, but no one really knows who we are, yknow?”

“You’ll get there.” 

“Maybe,” says Mack, looking sort of woeful before brightening up. “Anyway, it’s fun! And I’m doing some session stuff on the side, for extra cash. And working some shows. And helping out with touring groups when they come through.”

“Wow,” I say. “Thats a lot of jobs.” 

Mack laughs. “Yeah, I’m living the hustle.”

I grin. Mack’s face scrunches up as she laughs, and her hair fans into her eyes. 

“It sounds cool,” I say. Mack raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, busy, but you get to play music all the time.”

Someone brushes past me and I look up for the first time in what feels like ages. Everyone is streaming towards the back of the gym, and the level of noise has risen noticeably.

“I think it’s time for dessert,” Mack says. 

“Oh,” I say. I don’t really want dessert - I want to keep talking, but I’m not sure if Mack does. 

“Do you-” I say, and at the same time, Mack says “Let’s go out into the hallway, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” 

It’s quieter in the hallway, for sure, and darker. The sun has set so the only light is from the constantly shifting colors and strobes coming out of the gym, and one buzzing ‘exit’ sign. It feels a bit spooky out here. 

“How’s Robbie doing, and your grandparents?” Mack’s eyes are so big as she looks at me earnestly.

I don’t think I blush, but it’s close, and she wouldn’t be able to tell in the dark, anyway. Even after all this time, it’s nice to know Mack is thinking about them. My grandparents still ask about her.

“Good!” I say, and then stop to think about it a bit more. “Robbie’s doing better, really. He’s taking his medicine more consistently, and he’s had fewer scares. He’s better at balancing, I think.”

“Growing up,” Mack says wryly.

“Yeah, I think so, and I think it’s easier on my grandparents, too.”

“That’s really good to hear,” Mack says, and her smile feels so real. 

We can hear the chatter of people in the gym, and it sounds like the music has started up again. There’s a moment of silence between us, and I start tapping my foot along with the beat. 

“It’s really good to see you,” Mack says. 

“Yeah, I- you, too,” I say. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Mack smiles, soft and careful. “Me, too.” 

I’m staring at her lips again, but when I look up at her eyes I realize she’s looking at my mouth, too. I realize she might kiss me. I realize I want to be kissed. 

In the next moment, I can’t quite tell which of us leans in, but our lips meet.

It’s not like I haven’t kissed other people since the last time I kissed Mack, but it still feels familiar. Familiar to bend down, to crane my neck down towards hers. Her arm wraps around my shoulder, her fingers burrow lightly in my hair. Her lips are pressed against mine, and then her mouth opens, soft and warm. My fingertips are tingling. 

The song inside changes, something slower and deeper, and I remember where we are. In all the time we dated in high school, became famous, made news, I don’t think we ever kissed in the high school hallway. But it still feels like coming home.

I pull Mack a little closer. She fits against me, just like she always did.


End file.
